The Illicit Love of a Courtesan. Jane Lark

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Название The Illicit Love of a Courtesan
Автор произведения Jane Lark
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007553990



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on, Ellen, I will leave you be for a moment so you may drink your chocolate and eat cake.”

      “There, and now you are a saint and Marie Antoinette.”

      Laughing, he sat on the chest and lifted his boot to his knee to work the damn thing from his foot. This was always when he missed his valet. But then what Cooper would think of this affair he dare not even consider. He doubted anyone would understand, yet he didn’t care what they thought.

      “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

      “Yes, honestly I ate well enough at breakfast. I truly am only hungry for you.”

      “You are a flirt, Edward Marlow.” Her voice rang with the happiness visible in her smile. God, he could not believe the difference in her in just five days. She was no longer hesitant, nor self-conscious. She was a different woman with him and he couldn’t stand to see her ever change back to what she’d been before. And today he had a proposal for her that would mean she never had to.

      His lips tilting into a smile, he felt the expression in his heart. “And you, Ellen Harding, are everything a man desires, so how can you blame me for being in need of you.” Her smile broadening with a coquettish air, she sidled close to him as he set his one stocking clad foot to the floor beside the other booted one, then she slotted herself between his legs. His hands resting on her hips, he looked up as she looked down, not daring to pull her to his lap as she gripped her cup of chocolate in one hand and a slice of cake in the other. Her pale blue eyes, her dark hair and the whiteness of her skin awed him. It did each time he saw her. He wondered if they lived together until they were a hundred if her beauty would smite him like this even then. He could never imagine becoming accustomed to it. He thought he would always revere it as a precious thing.

      A smile still toying with her lips, she swallowed a mouthful of cake and chocolate. “So why are we celebrating today, my Lord?”

      “Edward, if you please, enough of your teasing, Miss. And I have cause to celebrate every day I am with you, Ellen. Why should I not splash out and find you a decent bed and an inn with some standing and good food? We didn’t even receive an odd look as we entered, did you notice?”

      She drained her cup and licked the chocolate from her lips, looking gloriously happy and dishevelled. His heart lurched. He took her empty cup from her hand and set it down, then kissed each of her fingertips, before pressing a last gentle kiss into her palm. He curled her fingers about it. “To save for later, Ellen, when you are alone.”

      “I am never alone now I have you,” she declared, affection shining in her eyes, saying more than she knew probably, admitting she’d been lonely before he’d filled the void.

      Another smile from his heart touched his lips. She was special this woman, he would dare any man in his position to deny it. But then he thought of Gainsborough, again. God, I wish I could keep that man out of my head.

      “But I did think we’d agreed to be cautious, this inn is a little—obvious—Edward, what if someone knew one of us?” If she challenged his choice of inn clearly that damn man was in her head too, like a bloody canker which wouldn’t go away.

      “It’s only for a day, Ellen. I wanted to give you more than a dirty room in some seedy inn, just for once I did not wish to have to be circumspect. I’ve booked the room under Mr and Mrs Brownlow and for a whole night. No one will ask questions. No one will think it odd.”

      Her fingers uncurling, they slid across his cheek, and he rested his head against her delicate embrace.

      Her touch felt cool despite the fire already burning in the hearth.

      Was it madness to love her so much? To place her happiness above his no matter what?

      She fed him her last mouthful of cake, her pale eyes dancing with frivolity and something else as she turned his head up to hers. “I love you, Edward,” she whispered.

      Edward felt his heart soar and burst like a fire cracker, while Ellen continued her declaration ignorant of the jubilation she’d engendered.

      “I think I am insane to say so. I hardly know you. We have known each other barely a month, and here I am, head over heels in love with you.” Her last words were uttered on a nervous laugh as she bent to cover his lips with hers.

      Words forgotten, cupping her nape Edward tumbled back to the bed, pulling her with him, his heart singing with joy.

      ~

      “Ellen.” Edward whispered to her over an hour later, as they reclined naked beneath the covers on the comfortable feather bed.

      “Yes,” she sighed contentedly, snuggling against the warmth and comfort of his body, one leg draped across his, one hand splayed on his chest. Glancing up she saw his eyes fix on the white plaster ceiling.

      “I don’t know how to explain what I feel for you, but I think I should try. I feel…” He paused, apparently searching for words.

      She rose a little, rolled to lay her palm on his chest and rest her chin on top of her hand, while he pulled a second pillow beneath him, and then set his hands behind his head. His gaze met hers. “It is akin to insanity, isn’t it?” He laughed. “That first night,” One hand slid from beneath his head and fell atop her hair, then played with a single lock, twisting it through his fingers. It was a wonderfully tender caress, “ever since it, you’ve been like a drug in my veins. I can’t bear thinking of you with him, Ellen. I don’t want to let you go.” He took a breath. She felt it pull into his lungs, beneath her palm. “I know you are afraid to leave him…”

      “Edward,” Instantly she pulled back, shifting to kneel beside him and pressed her fingers over his lips, “stop. I did not tell you I loved you because I wished you to make false promises to me.” Leaning back on her heels, her fingers slipping to rest gently at his hip she added. “Nor do I want Lord Gainsborough discussed in our bed. Forget him.” She held his gaze. “Besides I have known you barely a month, it is probably just an obsession. I was being silly.”

      “Whatever it is, it’s a feeling we share, I…” Leaning forward she covered his mouth again.

      “Edward.” It was time for blunt words. “I know you can offer me nothing other than this. I don’t expect it. Honestly. I cannot leave Gainsborough anyway.” It was not a lie. She was trapped, but it hurt to say it aloud. She had hoped for more, but that was a dream, she didn’t expect him to make it reality. He couldn’t.

      She turned away, getting up before he could see the tears she felt in her eyes.

      Rolling over he followed her across the bed and then his fingers clasped her wrist, but his grip wasn’t over-tight, it just asked her to stay. “Stop running.”

      She slipped her hand free, slid off the bed and bent to pick up her undergarments then turned to face him, her clothes in her hand and held to her chest. His eyes absorbed her naked body with his usual reverence. That dark awed look of his always sent a coiling spiral of heated desire through her tummy. His gaze lifted and met hers, intent and asking ‘why?’

      “What are you afraid of?” he challenged, his tone accusing.

      She didn’t answer, just watched his nude, nubile body shift into motion as he cast aside the cotton sheet and followed her off the bed to stand before her. Then his forefinger lifted and tipped up her chin and her gaze. “Stop running from me. I am trying to say I love you too, and I can offer you something. I can offer you marriage. I want you to be my wife and not go back to him, Ellen. Marry me.”

      A sharp pain struck her heart and her eyes glanced up to the ceiling, unable to look at him as she caught a breath into her lungs and stepped back. She prayed for strength, fighting tears as her anger flared. She shook her head. Offering the impossible was no help. She could not accept him. It hurt.

      Was the man wearing blinders? Surely he could see it was no answer?

      Her fingers, clutching her underclothes more tightly, she looked at him again.